


We Are Inevitable

by elemie89



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, F/M, Fluff and Smut, One Shot, Reunion Sex, Reunions, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-18 13:32:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18700600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elemie89/pseuds/elemie89
Summary: My completely self-indulgent head canon of what happened at the end of Steve's arc in "Avengers: Endgame".





	We Are Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all, this is my first foray into writing fic for the MCU, so please be kind. Thank you to [CommanderCrouton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandercrouton/pseuds/commandercrouton) and [monsterleadmehome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/monsterleadmehome/pseuds/monsterleadmehome) for the beta!

Hello?” Steve Rogers called as he stepped on the rooftop garden. “Ms...Ancient One?” 

 

A bald woman in a yellow robe stepped into view. “Captain Rogers.” 

 

He regarded her with a nod. “Ma’am. I believe I have something that belongs to you.” 

 

She waved her hand and the gold amulet around her neck opened up. Steve extended his hand and the green stone he’d been carrying floated into the amulet. His mission is now complete. It’s time to go back to 2023. 

 

“Thank you for your help, ma’am,” nodding and turning to leave. 

 

“Something else on your mind, Captain?” her statemed stopping him dead in his tracks. 

 

There was something else on his mind, or rather  _ someone _ on his mind. She’d been there since 1942 and hadn’t left. He had dared to hope he could be with her again, but that wasn’t in the cards. He had resigned himself to what little time they had after he woke up, only wondering what could be. In the back of his mind, he’d dared to dream of what could have been. He’d dared to dream of waking up with her every morning, what their children might look like, and growing old together. However, he knew it was all foolish hope.

 

“It’s nothing,” he replied with a smile. 

 

“It’s possible, you know,” she replied, with an all-knowing look that unsettled Steve. 

 

“I’m not sure I follow,” he furrowed his brow.   

 

“You can return to her,” the Ancient One replied.

 

“I can’t,” Steve sighed. “It would ruin everything.” 

 

“What if I told you the life you seek was already meant to be?” 

 

Steve considered those words for a second. “Tell me more.” 

  
  


***

 

**August 14th, 1945**

 

Peggy Carter looked around at the revelry unfolding around her. Ticker tape is still floating down all around the assembled crowd. She’d just passed an overly affectionate sailor giving a nurse a kiss, just one of the many couples around her overcome with jubilation. A photographer is taking their picture. She knows she should be happy. The war is over, the Axis Powers in the Pacific have officially surrendered. All the late nights, the heartache, and lives lost are now worth it and the sacrifice has not been in vain. 

 

So why isn’t Peggy happier? She knew the answer to that question and it stung more than she cared to admit. The answer stood just above six feet with piercing blue eyes. Today especially she acutely feels Steve Rogers absence and it hurts. She  _ knows  _ he’s not here and hasn’t been for three years, but Peggy can’t seem to stop looking for him everywhere. Even looking down an alleyway isn’t safe anymore because she can see him now, clear as day. Peggy reasoned she had to be hallucinating. There was no possible way Steve was leaning against the brick facade of a a building. There was no possible way he would be there, ignoring the revelry taking place around them, looking at her like she was the only thing in the world.  _ Just keep moving, he’s not really there _ , she told herself as she walked past him. 

 

“Agent Carter,” a voice that had nearly faded into memory called behind her. 

 

_ I’ve got to get back to my hotel,  _ she chided herself.  _ A stiff whiskey and a good night’s sleep will cure this insanity _ . She reasoned quickly that turning around and taking a second look in the direction of the voice will do her no 

 

Turning around only reinforces her earlier assessment that she needs a stiff drink and sleep. He’s still leaning up against the building with a motorcycle parked behind him.  _ This can’t be _ , the logical side of her brain scream. However, her legs ignore her brain and keep moving toward. She needed to touch him, she needed to know he truly wasn’t there. 

 

_ This is madness _ , she told herself. She’s inches from him now and getting closer. She reached out her hand to touch his shoulder, expecting nothing in return. A lump quickly formed in her throat and her heart lept when she felt actual flesh and blood. 

  
“Steve?” she asked tentatively. Tears had already begun streaming down her cheeks. 

 

“Sorry, I’m late,” he said. He cupped her face with his hands and wiped the tears away with his thumb. 

 

“Steve!” she cried. 

 

Forgetting all decorum, she grabbed his tie and pulled him in for a kiss. Normally, Peggy Carter wouldn’t be the type of woman to be caught dead kissing a man on the streets of Manhattan. However, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks that today was unlike any other. She’s waited what seems like a lifetime for this moment and she isn’t about to waste more time.

 

They broke apart as the need for air overwhelmed them. They stared at each other in breathless wonder for a few moments. 

 

“How is this possible?” Peggy asked, barely above a whisper. 

 

“Let me buy you a drink, I’ll tell you everything,” Steve replied, caressing her face, “and maybe after we finally have that dance.”

 

“I’d like that,” she nodded. 

 

Hours later, in her hotel bar, Peggy’s mind was still reeling. Absorbing all the information he’s told her has been no small feat. Also, trying to process that he was actually there proved to be an equally challenging task. He was no longer a dream or a memory, but real flesh and blood. He was there, sitting across a small dimly-lit table, enjoying a whiskey with her as a band plays jazz on a small stage. 

 

The clock on the wall struck eight, the time they were supposed to meet, before—well, before. Peggy wondered if Steve even remembered they had a date planned. Steve has lived a million lifetimes, or so it seems, since they parted. She dismissed as a silly thought, but oh how she wanted him to ask her to dance. 

 

She glanced over at the few couples swaying to the song being played, hoping against hope that Steve remembered. They sat in comfortable silence, taking in the scene unfolding around them. Minutes later, Peggy ran out of hope. She was almost about to reach for her clutch, when Steve broke the silence. 

 

“Now, Agent Carter,” he began softly, while standing up, “I do believe I owe you a dance.” 

 

She could almost cry for the second time today at his words. After taking his extended hand, they made their way to the floor. The musicians were playing a slow song, just like they always wanted. 

 

Peggy sighed contentedly as Steve slipped an arm around her waist and she placed her head on his chest. She breathed in the scent of his cologne. It was spicy and warm, just as she remembered. She committed that scent to memory—as well as the feel of the fabric on his shirt, the song the band was playing—not wanting to forget a single detail about this moment. This one perfect moment where it was just them swaying to the beat. As far as they were concerned, no one else existed. 

 

The song stopped moments later and Peggy looked over at the clock hanging above the bar. 

 

“Turning into a pumpkin there, Cinderella?” He asked with a smirk. 

 

She chuckled. “It’s been a long day.” 

 

“I’ll walk you to your room,” he said, extending his arm. 

 

She slipped her arm through his and directed him toward her room. They talked as they walked and arrived at her door too quickly for Peggy’s taste. 

 

“Well, I guess this is where I say goodnight,” Steve said, leaning against the doorframe.  

 

She didn’t want him to go yet. He’d been gone for too long and there was so much to make up for. A thought crossed Peggy’s mind and before she could stop herself, the words came out. “We don’t have to say goodnight.” 

 

An almost imperceptible blush crept across Steve’s cheeks as he shifted in his spot. 

 

Peggy opened up her clutch and grabbed her key to give him time to run away. However, when she pulled her room key out, he was still standing there. Maybe he wanted this as much as her. 

 

They stood in awkward silence at the foot of the bed. Peggy kicked off her Mary Jane heels. Steve followed with his loafers and socks. Clothing was quickly done away with and thrown on the floor. They stood before each other in nothing but their undergarments. Peggy was far from a shrinking violet, but she felt a heat flush across her chest being so exposed before Steve. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, closing the gap between them. 

 

She nodded, never having been more sure of anything in her life. “Are you?” 

 

As he cupped her face with his hands and pulled her into a kiss, Peggy knew she had her answer. His thumbs slipped under the straps of her bra and eased them down as their tongues playfully sparred in each other mouths. She reached around her back and undid the clasps for him. It joined the rest of the clothing on the floor. 

 

Peggy flopped down on the bed with her legs slightly dangling. Steve came to rest just above her, with his arms supporting him by her shoulders. He came to meet her in another hungry kiss, as if he couldn’t get enough. Peggy didn’t mind though, she was addicted as well. 

 

Steve lifted an arm and slipped two fingers under the waistband of her underwear. Peggy lifted her hips and helped him push down the offending article of clothing. 

 

“I want to try something,” Steve murmured against her lips. 

 

She nodded in assent. He placed his hand on her mound and parted her lips with his fingers. An involuntary moan escaped from her lips at the contact.  With the pad of his thumb he swirled around her clit. Peggy’s breath hitched and became more ragged. She felt a wetness gathering in her core and a tingly sensation spreading all over her body. She was in awe that this was the same scrawny kid from Brooklyn giving her this pleasure. 

 

Steve inserted a finger in her. Peggy let out a gasp at the sensation and he halted his motions. 

 

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, a look of concern spreading across his face. 

 

She placed a hand on his face. “Keep going.” 

 

He slid the finger in and out, slowly at first, but steadily picking up speed as he continued. 

 

“Steve,” she breathed.

 

In the midst of taking in this delicious friction, she noticed a small smile creep across Steve’s face. He was still the same man, beaming like a schoolboy when told he was doing something right. He inserted a second finger, increasing his pace and crooking his fingers inside her. Peggy had come by her own hand enough times to know her body and when her release was near. She grabbed Steve’s hand and pulled it out of her. 

 

“Something wrong?” he asked with a quirked eyebrow. 

 

“No,” she answered with a wicked smile, pulling him closer for a kiss. 

 

In one fluid motion, she managed to flip spots with Steve. She was now straddling him, his cock now hard against her center. After ridding him of his boxers, she positioned her entrance right over his hard length, gasping as she slid down just a few inches. 

 

She caught Steve’s eye as she began to roll her hips, taking a bit more of him in with each movement. In between his own gasps, he was looking up at her like she was the sun, moon and stars. A man who had traveled time, battled aliens, and seen countless other wonders was in awe of her. It was intoxicating to know she had him in the palm of her hand and spurred Peggy on. 

 

Her paced increased and the only sounds filling the room were that of their ragged breaths and two bodies moving as one. Peggy leaned back just a fraction and that angle was enough to send her over the edge. Her movements became frantic and--judging by Steve beginning to pulse inside her--he was close too. 

 

Coming together was the perfect ending for their reunion. They caught their breath and separated themselves. Peggy eased herself on to the bed and Steve pulled her into his chest. 

 

As she drifted off to sleep in this afterglow, she tried to process all that had transpired in the last twenty-four hours. Peggy knew only a little about time travel, but what she knew she tried to reckon with Steve returning. She knew fooling with past events could have a ripple effect on the future, but maybe--just maybe--this was always supposed to happen. Maybe they were just always meant to be.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [My Twitter](https://twitter.com/em_is_writing)


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